


Spirit Walk

by Mizuzoku



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizuzoku/pseuds/Mizuzoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sokka never got a chance to go on his Spirit Walk - a traditional voyage of hunting and self-discovery for Water Tribe adolescents. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to go alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, there is probably a doozy of things to mention here, so I’ll try to be brief? 
> 
> First off, before you skim this, this is set somewhere between the end of The Search and… Well, probably somewhere after The Rift, but because (as of this writing) it’s only released Part 1, I have no idea how that ended, so if those events interfere here, I’m sorry! Toph is off somewhere being awesome, likely teaching her metal bending students and being rad; she turned down the invitation to be here based on snowiness.
> 
> I based a lot of my research on Inuit culture, but I also did other kinds of research regarding living in sub-freezing temperatures, so if I wrote something that is not accurate to Inuit culture, I hope you can suspend disbelief. 
> 
> But because I drew inspiration from Central Inuit culture, I know that it’s odd that I use the word “igloo” in here repeatedly. I know that technically it should be igluvijik/igluvijait/ᐃᒡᓗᕕᔭᖅ/igluvigak, but for the sake of the fact that most readers will likely not understand that, I simply wrote “igloo” to refer to snowhouses - though I have also seen sources that said that in the past “igloo” was the correct term. (For those who are interested, the Inuit word “igloo” generally refers to any kind of house or building - nevermind what it’s built out of!)
> 
> HOWEVER, the “Spirit Walk” is only very, very loosely based on the idea of a Vision Quest, and I do not mean to offend anyone by having there be such a huge discrepancy between the two. Please keep in mind that the “Spirit Walk” is supposed to be something vaguely similar, but also vastly different. Please do not read this thinking that this is leading up to a realistic Vision Quest, because I can tell you right now, it won’t.

Zuko was impatient to be free of his delegation. He understood why it was necessary now that the throne of the Fire Nation was in his hands, but after traveling the world for years with the tiny contingent of navy that his father had granted him and his uncle, and then with the Avatar and their friends, it was stifling. He could easily have made the journey to the Southern Water Tribe by balloon on his own, and it would have been a treat to enjoy the silence it would have granted him. The previous months had been beyond stressful, fearing legitimately for his life while assassins stalked him, and then fearing the repercussions of the promise he himself had wrangled from Aang. Then the hunt for his mother and the restoration of his sister’s sanity - that had consumed so much of his energy, he didn’t think he had another emotional breakthrough in him.

It was a shame, though, that Ursa and her family couldn’t make the trip with him. Maybe when Kiyi grew a bit older a days-long journey to one of the poles would be more realistic, but for now their absence was sensible. That, and Ursa was still struggling to mend her shattered relationship with Azula. Keeping his father out of the loop of those proceedings was wearing enough, let alone Zuko’s paranoia that there might remain some assassins loyal to Ozai still lurking around the country with orders to execute his mother and her second husband on sight.

No, it was now time for him to leave his mother and sister to begin mending their bond without Azula having to worry about Zuko - or anyone else - interfering between their private visits. If Azula suspected that Ursa was coming to him after their discussions and sharing Azula’s thoughts with him, she might stop talking altogether. That was, if she was opening up at all to begin with.

Spring was the period when the Fire Lord’s advisers and counselors historically took a holiday anyway - a brief respite to relax with their families, recharge and come back renewed. It was when he and his own family used to visit Ember Island, which he honestly didn’t really feel like reliving. No, making this trip to see his friends at the Southern Water Tribe would be his own mini-escape. After all, Zuko didn’t know when he might get another chance, if politics interfered.

 

* * *

 

Aang and Katara’s tiny figures slowly took shape below the floating balloon. Zuko took a moment to admire the snowy camp beneath him as his men took care of steering them through their descent. The last time he had been here, it had been as a different person. He hadn’t thought to admire the way the slopes of snow glowed or the way the ice sparkled under the sun. Some of the igloos stood like stones, appearing as though they would stand the test of time for decades amongst the softer pelt tents. About a third of the igloos looked less pristine, with lumps and imperfections marring their domed surfaces. They stood perhaps more squat than the others, but solidly. The whole camp trickled away from a main igloo in the centre, a large gathering place with wooden poles radiating from its high walls. A pack of children materialized and waved up a the balloon, giggling and screaming with glee. Zuko hefted his pack before anyone could offer to carry it for him, and as the aircraft touched down, he hurried down the gangplank toward his friends.

“Zuko!” Aang flew forward and threw himself into Zuko’s arms with delight. “We’re so glad you could make it!” Katara greeted Zuko warmly when Aang released him.

“Dad’s been so excited to have you visit,” Katara confided. “He still hasn’t thanked you for helping Sokka get him out of prison. I hope you still have an appetite, because he’s called for a feast to celebrate your visit.”

“I’m honoured,” Zuko said, genuinely touched. He glanced at the throng of squealing children who were trying to charm his contingent of guards into playing with them, then at the bystanders standing at a respectful distance. “Where’s Sokka?”

Katara rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Sharpening his weapons, probably. The day after tomorrow he’s going… You know what? Why don’t we let _him_ explain it to you.” She shook her head playfully. “First, leave your bag with Aang, and follow me.

 

* * *

 

Of course, before Katara could bring Zuko to her brother, they were waylaid by various members of the Southern Water Tribe, many of them intent on personally congratulating him, albeit belatedly, for his role in ending the One Hundred Years War. Many of the warriors he recognized vaguely, and most of them had some sort of story of their own part in the battle to relay to him. He tried to accept the attention gracefully, but it still made him uncomfortable. He was grateful when Katara eventually started shooing them away, claiming that their guest needed to rest after his long journey.

“Thanks,” he sighed with relief when the throng finally disintegrated.

“You’re lucky Gran Gran hasn’t made her presence known; she has a bone to pick with you about the ‘scar on our people’s land’ - also known as that ancient Fire Nation ship still hanging around on the ice.”

Zuko looked both amused and a little scared. “Should I be worried? I’m not bringing it back with me, if that’s what she wants.”

“That _is_ what she wants, but don’t worry. She can take it; she’s a big girl.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Katara showed Zuko to one of the medium-sized igloos, stopping beside the entrance.

“I actually have to help with setting up the feast; if you need anything, Sokka will help you. If he doesn’t… Well, just make him.” Zuko laughed as she have him a quick hug and hurried back to another igloo, Aang looking a little lost between following Zuko and helping Katara. Finally he waved to Zuko and hurried after her.

The Fire Lord knelt on hands and knees to crawl into the shelter of snow and ice, pulling aside a hanging pelt at the end of the low tunnel. Beyond it, he saw Sokka sitting amidst several worn pelts, lit in the early evening gloom by a small fire in a crescent-shaped bowl. The boy was absorbed in his current task of what appeared to be oiling a strange wooden racquet. When Zuko popped his head past the threshold, Sokka glanced up and a grin warmed his features.

“Zuko! You made it!” He tossed aside the racquet and cloth, wiping his hands hurriedly on his pants before gripping Zuko in a quick hug. “We weren’t sure if you’d be here today or tomorrow!”

“The winds were fair,” Zuko supplied, taking in his old friend in his native surroundings. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” Sokka admitted, “But at the same time, not? Let me tell you, when the tribe has all its men back in town, there’s a lot less I need to do.”

Zuko noticed the way Sokka nearly faltered, but carried on as if he hadn’t; The Southern Water Tribe would never have _all_ her people back; not every man had come back from war.

“It sounds like you’ve been enjoying yourself,” he said, allowing the comment to pass. No need and no point in bringing it up.

“I have,” the other boy conceded. “It’s been great having my dad home, and we had a lot of catching up to do. Katara too. I think it’s been good for her to be able to surround herself with family again.”

“She seemed to want me to see what you were up to,” Zuko said, taking in Sokka’s tools. “Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? No - definitely not wrong. Actually, it’s something that’s been a long time coming. Here -” Sokka handed Zuko a racquet and retrieved another just like it for himself. Upon closer examination, Zuko saw that there were leather straps attached to each of them.

“Wait, aren’t these snowshoes?”

“My dad’s, actually. He’s letting me borrow his.”

Zuko considered this for a moment, turning the wooden frame in his hands. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah. I finally am.”


	2. Tradition

The central igloo was full of people; the dark skinned members of the Southern Water Tribe danced and sang and ate with relish as Zuko, with Sokka’s family, sat at the central dais. Zuko took the place of honor with timid embarrassment; despite how far he had come, he could never shake the feeling that he had wronged these people too much to accept such a gift. It was the same in the Earth Kingdom, but as Fire Lord, it was also something he had to come to accept. And aside from that, he had Sokka at his side. On his other, Hakoda chatted with Bato animatedly between bites. Sokka’s father had shared some of the Southern Water Tribe’s ventures since the end of the war, and Zuko listened with genuine interest. When the man finished, however, he was eager to hear more from Sokka.

Sokka had been interrupted in their igloo by one of the children telling them that the feast was about to be served before Zuko could get more out of him. Now the boy was downing a bowl of broth and sea prunes with relish while watching Aang, who was hovering the tribe’s little ones on puffs of air one at a time.

Zuko nudged his elbow to draw his attention.

“You never got to tell me where you’re going,” he said. Sokka gulped his mouthful loudly before lowering his bowl and grinning.

“Have you ever heard of a Spirit Walk?”

Zuko regarded him with interest. “I can’t say I have.”

“It’s an old Water Tribe tradition,” Sokka explained, forgetting his food for once. “It’s something of a rite of passage here. Not everybody takes one, but generally if you do, your first one is done while you’re in your teens. I should have done mine over a year ago, but… It was so easy to put it off - but now that I’m finally back home, and I have a chance…”

“We can handle things without you for a week or two,” Hakoda said loudly, smiling down at his son. To Zuko he said, “What he’s not telling you is that he’s been too busy helping our tribe rebuild since he’s gotten home.”

“What about you, Katara?” Zuko asked, addressing the water bender on Sokka’s other side. “Are you going with him?”

“Oh, it’s not really my kind of thing,” she admitted. “All hunting and survival and no-bending.” She shrugged. “It’s pretty traditional for men to do them, and girls are allowed to go too, but it’s not something I’ve ever really felt a need to do. I mean, we traveled across the whole world already! What more do we need to prove?”

“It’s a time honoured tradition!” Sokka argued.

“I’m not trying to diminish its worth,” Katara replied, “It’s just not something I feel a calling toward.”

“But more than one person _can_ go?” Zuko asked.

“Typically, two people will partner together,” Hakoda explained. “I took my first Spirit Walk with Bato - and my second one alone. It can be good to have a companion to keep you grounded.” Bato, who was listening in, nodded.

“You nearly died on that second one!” he laughed.

“I took you with me the other two times to rectify that,” the chief allowed with an appreciative smile.

Zuko watched the two exchange friendly rebukes for a moment before turning back to Sokka.

“So you’re going alone?”

The younger boy stretched his arms behind him. “Yeah, unless someone wants to come with me. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Zuko started, surprised. He’d only just gotten there, and Sokka was going to leave? The boy offered him a regretful smile.

“It’s the only time I can free up from my schedule right now,” he apologised. “But it’s only for a week. You’ll be here a bit longer than that, right?”

“Yeah, I will,” the fire bender replied. He turned his attention to the throat singers performing - the two women stood face to face, their arms resting on each other as they sang their resonant, unearthly chant, passing the song back and forth. It reminded him of all the times he’d traded fire from his hands to Aang’s, or watched the younger boy and Katara exchange water between them. Sometimes they’d finish a song and laugh, other times they would hold each others’ gazes fiercely as they sang. The igloo, despite its snow structure, felt warm, and his belly was full. As he listened Zuko allowed his mind to wander.

 

* * *

 

Sokka had packed and unpacked his pack too many times to count; no matter how many times he ticked off his mental check list, it always felt like there had to be something missing. Or something too much. Maybe he didn’t need so much rope, he wondered.

The squeak of boots in snow recalled him to the present, and he was pleased to see Zuko crawl through the entrance of the tent. The boy had seemed pensive at dinner the previous night, and despite Aang’s attempts to draw him into the 1,000th performance of _The Dancing Dragon_ , he had remained relatively distant.

“Zuko,” he greeted. “Cold enough for ya?”

The fire bender rolled his eyes. It had seemed like everyone thought it would be the Fire Lord’s favourite joke.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, sitting before the water tribe boy.

“Sure thing.”

“About the Spirit Walk.”

“Okay?”

“Hypothetically, could somebody from outside the Water Tribe take part in it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sokka said non-committally. “I thought about asking Aang, but I don’t think he’d be comfortable with the hunting aspect. He made faces,” Sokka said shaking his head. “I’ll tell you, that Avatar has no respect for good old, spiritual traditions.”

“What about someone… From the Fire Nation?” Zuko seemed to be having a hard time asking; maybe it was the perceived slights Zuko still felt he had effected against the Water Tribe. Maybe it was embarrassment from being so forward.

“Well, if he was a friend, I’d say he’s welcome. There’s only one problem…”

Zuko looked surprised, and maybe a little disappointed. “What?”

“The thing about a Spirit Walk is that it’s about getting in touch with yourself from a survival stand-point. Your most basic resources. Which means no bending.”

Zuko took that in. “Right - your sister mentioned that.”

“So if you wanted to come, you’d have to lay off bending for a week - not to make fires, not to toast marshmallows, not to keep warm - nothing. I mean, you _could,_ but it would defeat the purpose.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Zuko told him.

“I know - but I wouldn’t want to ask that of you, either. It doesn’t really seem fair. I know how far you had to come to get in touch with your bending - bending that doesn’t come from rage,” he amended. “It wouldn’t seem fair to ask you to give it up - even if it is only for a week. And sometimes these things can last a little longer. Not by a lot, the longest one I’ve heard of was a fortnight, but… You know…”

“But other than that… You wouldn’t mind if I came?” Zuko asked, and in that moment Sokka could see Zuko’s insecurities showing through once more.

“It would be an honor to have my fiery friend at my side,” Sokka grinned. “Just no fieriness.”


End file.
